


I happen to love you

by anotherthief



Category: Mary Poppins (1964)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherthief/pseuds/anotherthief
Summary: Mary and Bert over the years.





	I happen to love you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linsky/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy! Happy Holidays!

**1910**

“Well, I suppose you got the Banks family all squared away.” Bert smiles at her, his heart aching with missing her before she’s even really gone.

Mary gives a curt nod. “I think they can find their way from here.”

“Then you’ll be on your way soon.” Bert tries to keep a neutral expression on his face. He watches her closely, looking for any sign… but she’s as guarded as ever.

“I go where I’m needed.”

Bert takes this in for a moment, but he knows that’s his cue. He tips his hat, offers her a slight smile. “As do I.”

As he shuffles off, though, he can’t help but turn his head back for one last look. She’s still standing on the corner, then he blinks and she’s gone.

 

\-----

 

**1902**

Rain splatters hard on Bert’s window. It’s March and it’s dreary, unshocking but true nonetheless. They’ve stolen a few moments in Bert’s dingy little flat. Mary’s head is resting on his shoulder. Her latest project is complete and the rain makes it a less than ideal day for travel.

“I wish you could stay longer.” Bert pulls her closer into his side, as if he holds on tightly enough that he can keep her put.

Mary hugs him up in return, making the most of the time they have.

“I’m not so easy to love, Bert.” She whispers, showing a crack in her confidence that few ever see.

Bert presses a kiss into her hair. “Doesn’t much change the fact that I do.”

 

\-----

 

**1905**

Years have a way of wearing and Mary was right - it’s not easy.

Mary’s gathering her things to go, and Bert can’t stop himself. “It’s a good position you got with the Grovers.”

“It will do for a spell, until it’s time to go.” She puts her brush into her carpet bag before snapping it shut. Bert watches her from where he’s perched on the edge of the bed.

“It’s hard when you’re gone.” Bert picks at a thread on his shirt. He could do with a new one or three, if he’s being honest.

Bert looks up and realizes Mary has been watching him. “Is it too hard?” She’s really staring him down now. Bert wonders if this is what it feels like to be one of her charges.

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “You go and you’re just gone, with the wind, literally,” he stifles a sad smile. “And I’m here, with me dingy flat and me odd jobs. It’s like… like my life is always stopping and starting. Even when you’re here, I know soon you’ll be gone again. That fact is always the same - that you’ll be going and I’ll be staying.”

She takes this in then crosses the room to sit next to him on the edge of the bed, takes his hand in hers. “You think I always leave you behind. But you forget that I always choose to come back.”

Then she’s looking at him with those blue blue eyes. For someone who is always leaving others behind, her eyes are begging him to stay.

_I still miss you_ , he thinks but can’t say, pulling her into his side instead. “I know,” he murmurs into her hair.

 

\-----

 

**1916**

Bert serves the last two years of the war. Mary is never officially listed on any records but often acts as a nurse. No one ever seems to question her sudden appearances at the front, but then again when injured are coming in, no one questions much of anything. Bert sees her twice from a distance and a third time when he finds himself laid up after catching a bullet in the leg. He awakes in the middle of the night to her sitting at his bedside. “Well, if it isn’t Mary Poppins.” His voice creaks from lack of use. He’s not sure how long he’s been out.

“Ah, there you are, coming around I see.” She takes a cool cloth and brushes it across his brow then hands him a cup of water. “Small sips, there you go, that’s a good man. How are you feeling?”

“Well,” Bert contemplates, taking in her slightly disheveled appearance, “like I got shot.”

Mary rolls her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

It’s not a reassurance so much as an order; Bert’s known her long enough to recognize the difference, and he wonders just how much of a scare he gave her.

“How long will you stay?”

“Until the winds change, you know that.”

If he can’t hide his disappointment, he hopes she doesn’t blame him. She doesn’t acknowledge it in either case, instead reaches out with the cloth again to wipe his brow, but her thumb lingers on his cheek before she pulls away. “I’ll stay while I’m needed.”

He reaches for her hand, gives it a gentle squeeze.

She squeezes his in reply.

 

\-----

 

**1908**

(Bert isn’t always good at waiting.

He’s not so proud of that.)

“We were just talking!”

“That wasn’t what it looked like to me.” Mary seethes, crossing her arms. Bert can feel the anger radiating off of her.

“God, Mary, we were _just talking_. Sometimes I just need to talk to someone and you’re not there!”

“I was there tonight.”

If her eyes could shoot daggers, Bert would be dead right now, and somehow it just adds to his own anger. “And I had no way of knowing that.” Mary shakes her head, doesn’t respond. Bert can feel his temper rising, “Look, my life doesn’t stop when you’re not here.”

He regrets the words the second he sees her face, but he can’t change time and he can’t say it’s not true. They’re at a crossroads now, no way out but through.

“I thought your life was with me.”

“A couple months here or there... What kind of life is it?”

“Mine.” She says, quietly. “It’s my life. It’s always been this way. It will always be this way. I have a job to do, a purpose. I have to go where I’m needed. I thought you understood that, Bert.”

She’s almost pleading with him now to understand, but Mary Poppins doesn’t plead. Bert’s anger from moments ago is gone, and he has never felt smaller in his life. When she looks at him, so defeated, he knows they’re going somewhere they can’t come back from.

“I did. I do. But I need you, too. And much as I love you, that life you’re leading? It’s really... it’s not with me.”

 

\-----

 

**1919**

When Bert makes it back to London, Mary surprises him by being there to greet him.

His heart swells at the sight of her. “Well, if it isn’t Mary Poppins.”

She grins in reply, and when she walks into his arms, he knows he’s home.

 

\-----

 

**1920**  

“Do you believe in fate?” Bert leans back, his shoulders hard against the brick wall they’re standing in front of. The streets are mostly clear; it’s tea time.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, Bert.” Mary brushes at something on her skirt, doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Do you think some things are meant to happen, destined, if ya will? Things we don’t get a choice in?”

“I think we make things happen or we don’t.”

Bert nods at this. That’s more or less what he expected her to say. They lapse into a familiar silence. Mary will be leaving soon. Bert doesn’t know where she’s going or when she’ll be back, but the fact of her leaving is such a constant in his life that he knows she’ll be going soon even without her telling him.

“Bert.”

“Yes, Mary Poppins?” He flashes her a cheeky grin, trying to communicate more warmth than he feels.

“Do you believe in fate?” She eyes him curiously, as if she doesn’t know what he’ll say. But, that’s preposterous. Mary Poppins knows everything. Even still, he nods, pretending to weigh his answer, enjoying her attentions being on him.

“Aye, I think I do.”

A mixture of perplexion or amusement or both spread across her face. “And why, may I ask is that?”

“‘Cause I think I was meant to love you.”

“Oh,” she says, and smiles in that wry way of hers.

Bert figures that’s the end of that as silence once more stretches between them. Mary joins him in leaning against the wall, leaving about an inch between them. “You always do like to complicate things, don’t you, Bert?”

“Do I, now? And if that’s so, what did I complicate this time?”

“Us.”

“You don’t think we’re complicated?”

“No, not really… it’s funny, though, I suppose. You think fate made you love me. But you should know better than that by now. I never do anything I don’t want to do. I chose to love you Bert.”

A smile spreads across his face of its own volition. “Is that so, Mary Poppins?”

She simply smiles at him in return.

 

\-----

 

**1900**

The first time Bert meets Mary Poppins, he doesn’t meet her so much as almost runs her smack over with his cart. He’s selling flowers today by the handful; he offers her an apology and a daisy. She sizes him up in that way of hers before accepting.

“Thank you.”

“I really am sorry, ma’am.”

“You said that already.”

“Aye, and I meant it, ma’am.”

“Oh, stop with the ma’am nonsense,” she rolls her eyes. “It’s Mary, Mary Poppins.”

Bert grins at that. “Mary Poppins. Nice to meet you, love. And you can call me Bert.”


End file.
